Potter and Black
by milkybar
Summary: What if that fateful night there was two children ? Siri black or otherwise known as the girl who lived was also left an orphan. Follow her and Harry as they go through their first year at Hogwarts. Eventual Harry/OC
1. Chapter 1

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.

When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.

None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.

At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls.

"Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.

It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar - a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen - then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive - no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs. Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.

But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes - the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt - these people were obviously collecting for something... yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.

Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.

He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"The Potters and black, that's right, that's what I heard-"

"- yes, their son, Harry and daughter Siri-"

Mr. Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking... no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her - if he'd had a sister like that... but all the same, those people in cloaks...

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.

"Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"

And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.

Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw - and it didn't improve his mood - was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.

"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.

The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.

Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!"). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"

"Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early - it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."

Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters...

Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er - Petunia, dear - you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"

As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.

"No," she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..."

"So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley.

"Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... her crowd."

Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son - he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.

"What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"

"Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something.

Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did... if it got out that they were related to a pair of - well, he didn't think he could bear it.

The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind... He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on - he yawned and turned over - it couldn't affect them...

How very wrong he was.

Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again - the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh yes, I've celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no - even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone-"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense - for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't, said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too - well - noble to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what they're saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters and abby. The rumor is that Lily,James And Abby are - are - that they're - dead."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..."

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know... " he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Children, Harry and Siri. But he couldn't. He couldn't kill two infants. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Them,, Voldemort's power somehow broke - and that's why he's gone."

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's - it's true ?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a them? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did they survive?"

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now,so there also the only family Siri has now."

"You don't mean - you can't mean the people who live here ?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter and siri black can't come and live here!"

"It's the best place for them," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to them when their older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand them! They will be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter and siri day in the future - there will be books written about Them - every child in our world will know their name!"

"Exactly." said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any childs head. Famous before they can walk and talk! Famous for something they won't even remember! Can you see how much better off they will be, growing up away from all that until there ready to take it?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes - yes, you're right, of course. But how is the childern getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry and Siri underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing them."

"You think it - wise - to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to - what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky - and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir - house was almost destroyed, but I got them out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. They fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the two bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of in the other was a baby girl,also fast asleep, she also had a tuft of black hair and a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where - ?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "They'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well - give him here, Hagrid - we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore took Harry and siri in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.

"Could I - could I say good-bye to them, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and siri, and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "You'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it - Lily an' James an' Abby dead - an' poor little Harry and siri off ter live with Muggles-"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry and Siri gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets and another in siri, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundles; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Harry and siri," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets bumping into Siri,who open her grey eyes,slightly before clamping them shut. without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he and siri was special, not knowing they were famous, not knowing they would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley... They couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter and siri black- the children who lived!"


	2. Chapter 2

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew and a baby girl on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets - but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy and girl lived in the house, too.

Yet Harry Potter and Siri Black was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. Aunt Petunia, which Siri was also forced to call he that, was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day. A noise witch drove Siri insane!

"Up! Get up! Now!"

The

Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.

"Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before. He then turned round and shook Siri - who was some how still asleep. Blearily, she opened her eyes and turned to face Harry in the bed they shared. " morning" she greeted her voice still laced with sleep.

Their aunt was back outside the door.

"Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Nearly," said Harry as Siri sat up rubbing her sleep filled eyes.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."

Harry groaned and Siri rolled on to her back in disbelief.

"What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing..."

Dudley's birthday - how could they have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under the bed along with Siri's, after pulling a spider off one of them, he put them on. Harry and Siri were used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where they slept slept cramped together on a small single. Siri soon followed as she did not wish to feel her aunts rage.

When they were dressed they went down the hall into the kitchen, Siri stumbling behind as she was clearly not a morning person. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to both Harry and Siri, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise - unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favorite punching bag used to be Harry, but he couldn't often catch him and stopped shortly after Siri punched him in face, she got in so much trouble for that but it was worth it. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast. Siri could also be gas but she preferred not to run unless she had to.

Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose.

Siri also had dark locks but they grew into bouncy curls, she had plump pink lips and high cheek bones, along with a slightly curved figure that was bound to keep growing. Her bright blue eyes also shown with hidden humour that only Harry had the pleasure of hearing. The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning, Siri had this too. He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.

"In the car crash when both your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask questions."

Don't ask questions - that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys. Unfortunately Siri loved to ask questions and often got in trouble for doing so.

Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon and Siri pored fresh orange juice to the jungle of a family.

"Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting. Siri mocked him as he turned to the table casing Harry to chuckle before turning back to the bacon.

About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way - all over the place. They had tried to get Siri to cut her hair too but she had put up such a fuss, kicking and screaming on the way to the hair dressers.

Harry was frying eggs and Siri was taking tomatoes out the the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel - Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig, Siri just decided he was too ugly to be allowed on the planet and should be exiled...immediately!

Siri took the last of the tomatoes and sausages from the oven and lightly bumped Harry on the leg as she saunter into the lounge. Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell. Siri grimaced, she knew what was coming and it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father with his piggy eyes. "That's two less than last year."

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy." They tried to pacify him like one does to toddler.

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over. Siri soon joined him not wanting to waste her bacon, bacon was life.

Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right" it was sicking watching parents scared of there own children.

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty... thirty..."

Harry and Siri shared a knowing look. Dudley was thick and it was debatable if he even had a brain.

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."

Uncle Vernon chuckled. He was proud of his obese, greedy and spoilt child.

"Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.

At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry, Siri and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him or the girl." She jerked her head in Their direction.

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Siri just grinned. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, They were left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned. Siri just hated the cats, they made her cringe.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at them as though they had planned this. Siri couldn't care less about Mrs fight, as she made her feel on edge as though there was something not quiet right with knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the them."

"Feeling mutual" whispered Harry so that only Siri could hear. She grinned back in response.

The Dursleys often spoke about Harry and Siri like this, as though they weren't there - or rather, as though they were something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug. This always made them agitated, they were people thank you very much!

"What about what's-her-name, your friend - Yvonne?"

"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"You could just leave us here," Harry put in hopefully (they would be able to watch what they wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer).

Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.

"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening. Even though it was more likely that Siri would be the one to do so.

"I suppose we could take them to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "... and leave him in the car..."

"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone..."

"We're hardly going to break a cat" Argued Siri only to be the recipient of a sharpe glare.

Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying - it had been years since he'd really cried - but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.

"Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let them spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.

"I... don't... want... Them... t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything! And she's horrible!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms only to stop once he noticed Siri glowering back at him.

Just then, the doorbell rang - "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically - and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. He also tried to kiss Siri claiming that she was his girlfriend, he regretted that. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.

Half an hour later, Harry and Siri, who couldn't believe their luck, were sitting in the back of the Dursleys' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. Their aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with them, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken both of them aside.

"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's Siri tenses incase he tried anything, "I'm warning you now, boy - any funny business, anything at all - and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas. That goes for you to girl!"

"I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly..."

Siri just stood, she knew it was no use.

But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did.

The problem was, strange things often happened around them and it was just no good telling the Dursleys they didn't make them happen.

Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night next toe Siri imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly.

Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force Siri into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls). The harder she tried to pull it over her head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Siri. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to her great relief, Siri wasn't punished.

On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump.

But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, their cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.

While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Siri, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.

"... roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.

"I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."

Siri nudged him, but the damage had be done.

Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

Dudley and Piers sniggered.

"I know they don't," said Harry. "It was only a dream."

But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than his asking questions, it was them talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon - they seemed to think they might get dangerous ideas, not that Siri didn't already have them.

It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry and Siri what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought them a cheap lemon ice pop. It wasn't bad, either, Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond. Siri however disagreed declaring quietly to Harry that the gorilla was way to smart to be Dudley.

They had the best morning they had in a long time. They was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him. This also allowed them to talk quietly amongst them selves, this was what they loved, their ability to talk about any thing and everything without ever getting bored of each other .They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and They were allowed to finish the first.

Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last. Siri who didn't allow her hopes to get up so much was not very surprised.

After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can - but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.

"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.

Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself - no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Siri and Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with their eyes.

It winked.

Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He then looked a Siri who also seemed looked back at the snake and winked, too.

The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave them a look that said quite plainly:

"I get that all the time."

"I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."

"Most be horrible to live with it" commented Siri, who was also doubtful that snake could hear them.

The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Both of them peered at it.

Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

"Was it nice there?" Asked Siri, who was desperate to see different countries.

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and they read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see - so you've never been to Brazil?"

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.

"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor, taking Siri with him in an domino affect. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened - one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

Harry and Siri sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid swiftly past them, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come... Thanksss, amigo."

The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.

"But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"

The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as they had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for them at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "they were talking to it, weren't you?"

Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on them. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go - cupboard - stay - no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.

They lay together in his dark cupboard much later, Harry wishing he had a watch while Siri was asleep on his chest. He didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, they

couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food.

They had lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as each of them could remember, ever since they had been a baby and their parents had died in that car crash. He couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died and neither could Siri. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. Siri too had the same vision yet couldn't quiet place where it had come from. He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course he was forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house. It was the same for Siri, they knew she wasn't related to him but that was it.

When they had been younger, They had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were his only family and it was assumed that Siri had no other family. They used to make up games inbetween gardening and would pretend to be rescued, but it was just that, games. Yet sometimes they thought (or maybe it was foolish hope) that strangers in the street seemed to know them. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to them once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry and Siri furiously if they knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at the both of them once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken both their hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second they tried to get a closer look.

At school, they had no one except each other . Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter and Siri Black in their baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.


	3. Chapter 3

The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned them both their longest-ever punishment. They had only had each other for company, and after a few days Siri's game of eye spy had become annoyingly repetitive. By the time they were allowed out of the boring cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and Dudley had already broken his new video camera, crashed his remote control airplane, and, first time out on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches. Siri had just smiled knowingly at Harry when she heard this, they had made a bet after first being locked in the cupboard and Harry know owed her a back massage.

Harry was glad school was over, Siri on the other hand was ecstatic, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader. The rest of them were all quite happy to join in Dudley's favorite sport: Harry Hunting. That was until they let go of Siri and she would then punch them till they found someone else to chase. Harry jokingly called her his protector.

This was why they spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where he could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came they would be going off to secondary school and, for the first time in their life, neither of them would be with Dudley. Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. Piers Polkiss was going there too. Harry and Siri, on the other hand, were going to Stonewall High, the local public school. Dudley thought this was very funny.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"

"No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said. Leaving Siri clutching her tummy in laughter.

One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving them both at Mrs. Figg's. Mrs. Figg wasn't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats, and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years. Siri found interest in watching the flames of the fire place, they seemed slightly off. " do they look weird?" She asked as gestured to the flames as she ate a chocolate cake. Harry too stared at the flames, before shaking his head. " their just flames Siri" he declared before Turing back to Total Wipe Out on the tv, leaving Siri to ponder.

That evening, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings' boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. Siri felt laughter churning in her chest as she tried to contain it, but couldn't. The Dursleys shot her dark looks but she continued to laugh. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life.

As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn't trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh. However, he soon became the victim of dark looks after he laughter got the better of him..

There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when they went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look while Siri stayed back declaring it to horrible. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in gray water.

"What's this?" he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question.

"Your new school uniform," she said.

Harry looked in the bowl again.

"Oh," he said, "I didn't realize it had to be so wet."

Siri began to snigger behind her hand that was holding her nose and mouth.

"Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. "I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things gray for you too. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."

They seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. They sat down at the table and tried not to think about how they was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High - like they was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably. At least they would both be in the same boat.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from the new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smelting stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table.

They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.

"Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.

"Make Harry get it."

"Get the mail, Harry."

"Make Dudley get it."

"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."

Harry dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Four things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and - a letter for Harry and another Letter for Siri!

Harry picked them up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him or Siri. Who would?They had no friends, no other relatives - they didn't belong to the library, so they never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Siri's said the same.

The envelopes were thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.

Turning the envelopes over, his hand trembling, Harry saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.

"Hurry up, boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Harry went back to the kitchen, still staring at his letter. He handed Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard, sat down, and slowly began to open the yellow envelope as he passed Siri hers, ignoring her look of confusion.

Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard.

"Marge's ill," he informed Aunt Petunia. "Ate a funny whelk..."

"Dad!" said Dudley suddenly. "Dad, Harry and Siri have got something!"

Harry was on the point of unfolding his letter and Siri was still turning hers over in her hand, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Uncle Vernon, who quickly with surprising speed grabbed Siri's as well.

"That's mine!" said Harry, trying to snatch it back. As Siri stood up, "yeah their ours, you can't take them!" She declared!

"Who'd be writing to you to?" sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking the letters open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge.

"P-P-Petunia!" he gasped.

Dudley tried to grab the letters to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.

"Vernon! Oh my goodness - Vernon!"

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry, Siri and Dudley were still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored. He gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick.

"I want to read that letter," he said loudly.

"I want to read it," said Harry furiously, "as it's mine."

"And I want mine!" Shouted Siri who was getting annoyed at being denied her letter.

"Get out, all of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letters back inside its envelope.

Harry didn't move and neither did Siri.

"I WANT OUR LETTERS!" he shouted on behalf of him and Siri.

"Let me see it!" demanded Dudley.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall before coming back for Siri and doing the same, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Harry and Dudley promptly had a furious but silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole; Dudley won, so Harry, his glasses dangling from one ear, lay flat on his stomach to listen at the crack between door and floor. Siri just sat nursing the back of her neck.

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address - how could they possibly know where they sleep? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching - spying - might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly.

"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want-"

Harry could see Uncle Vernon's shiny black shoes pacing up and down the kitchen. Siri was just sat plotting how to get her letter back.

"No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer... Yes, that's best... we won't do anything..."

"But-"

"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took them in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"

That evening when he got back from work, Uncle Vernon did something he'd never done before; he visited them in the cupboard.

"Where's my letter?" said Harry, the moment Uncle Vernon had squeezed through the door. "Who's writing to me?" Asked Siri as she sat up.

"No one. It was addressed to you by mistake," said Uncle Vernon shortly. "I have burned it."

"It was not a mistake," said Harry angrily, "it had our cupboard on it."

"SILENCE!" yelled Uncle Vernon, and a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling causing Siri to shake them off. He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful.

"Er - yes, Harry.- Siri - about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking... you're both really getting a bit big for it... we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom.

"Why?" said Harry. Siri nudged him sharply, not wanting him to ruin them getting the new room as it was really squished in the cupboard.

"Don't ask questions!" snapped his uncle. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."

The Dursleys' house had four bedrooms: one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, one for visitors (usually Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge), one where Dudley slept, and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom. It only took Harry and Siri one trip upstairs to move everything they owned from the cupboard to this room. They sat down on the bed,they still had to share, and stared around them. Nearly everything in here was broken. The month-old video camera was lying on top of a small, working tank Dudley had once driven over the next door neighbor's dog; in the corner was Dudley's first-ever television set, which he'd put his foot through when his favorite program had been canceled; there was a large birdcage, which had once held a parrot that Dudley had swapped at school for a real air rifle, which was up on a shelf with the end all bent because Dudley had sat on it. Other shelves were full of books. They were the only things in the room that looked as though they'd never been touched. Siri stood up and picked up a book. Blowing the dust of the cover, she began to flick through the slightly aged pages as she paced slowly around the room. Harry gazed at his best friend as she paced, he really was glad she was with him as without her he was sure everything would be a lot worse.

From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling at his mother, I don't want him or her in there... I need that room... make them get out..."

Harry sighed and stretched out on the bed as Siri flopped down beside him, her hair fanning out around her. Yesterday he'd have given anything to be up here with Siri. Today he'd rather be back in his cupboard with that letter than up here without it.

Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smelting stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother, and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof, and he still didn't have his room back. Harry was thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wishing he'd opened the letter in the hall. Siri was unusually quiet, she just couldn't stop thinking out that letter, how she wished she had it. It could have been from her family- if she even had one. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other darkly.

When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to Harry and Siri, made Dudley go and get it. They heard him banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's another one! 'Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive Misses.S. Black - '"

With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat and ran down the hall, Harry and Siri right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letter from him, which was made difficult by the fact that Harry and Sir had both grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind. After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by the Smelting stick, Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, with Siri's Harry's letters clutched in his hand.

"Go to your cupboard - I mean, your bedroom," he wheezed at them. "Dudley - go - just go."

Harry walked round and round his new room as Siri sat on bed peering out the dusty Window, they really need to dust the room. Someone knew they had moved out of their cupboard and they seemed to know hey hadn't received their first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again? And this time he'd make sure they didn't fail. He had a plan. Siri noticing his look began to smile, they were going to get those letters.

The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Harry turned it off quickly and dressed silently, he then shook Siri awake who seemed to be able to sleep through any noise. They mustn't wake the Dursleys. He stole downstairs, with Siri following him, without turning on any of the lights.

They were going to wait for the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for number four first. His heart hammered as he crept across the dark hall toward the front door -

"AAAAARRRGH!"

Harry leapt into the air; he'd trodden on something big and squashy on the doormat - something alive!

Siri also jumped due to the loud noise and promptly nocked a lamp over, cause it to crash to the floor

Lights clicked on upstairs and to his horror Harry realized that the big, squashy something had been his uncle's face. Uncle Vernon had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure that Harry didn't do exactly what he'd been trying to do. He shouted at Harry and Siri for about half an hour and then told them to go and make a cup of tea. Harry and Siri shuffled miserably off into the kitchen and by the time he got back, the mail had arrived, right into Uncle Vernon's lap. Harry and Siri could see Four letters addressed in green ink.

"I want - " he began, but Uncle Vernon was tearing the letters into pieces before their very eyes.

Harry began to get ready to shout till he felt Siri grab his arm " don't bother " she whisper to him.

Uncle Vernon didn't go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot.

"See," he explained to Aunt Petunia through a mouthful of nails, "if they can't deliver them they'll just give up."

"I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon."

"Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me," said Uncle Vernon, trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought him.

On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for them. As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.

Uncle Vernon stayed at home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could go out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" as he worked, and jumped at small noises.

On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters to Siri and Harry found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that their very confused milkman had handed Aunt Petunia through the living room window. While Uncle Vernon made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her food processor.

"Who on earth wants to talk to you this badly?" Dudley asked them in amazement.

On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.

"No post on Sundays," he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, "no damn letters today-"

Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys ducked, but Harry leapt into the air trying to catch one -

While Siri scoped one of the ground, she tore it open only to have sausage fingers jerk it from her grasp/

"Out! OUT!"

Uncle Vernon seized Harry and Siri around the waist and threw theminto the hall. When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.

"That does it," said Uncle Vernon, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his mustache at the same time. "I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"

He looked so dangerous with half his mustache missing that no one dared argue. Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway. Dudley was sniffling in the back seat; his father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, VCR, and computer in his sports bag. Siri fell asleep on Harry's shoulder, he smirked as he felt her dribble onto his shirt, he would definitely tease her about this.

They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while.

"Shake 'em off... shake 'em off," he would mutter whenever he did this.

They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he'd missed five television programs he'd wanted to see, and he'd never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.

Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley, Harry and Siri shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Harry stayed awake with Siri asleep beside him , sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering...

They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.

"'Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter and misses. S. B? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk."

She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:

Mr. H. Potter

Room 17

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth

Harry made a grab for the letter as did Siri but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared.

"I'll take them," said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.

"Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested timidly, hours later, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a plowed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully late that afternoon. Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared.

It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley sniveled.

"It's Monday," he told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television."

Monday. This reminded Harry of something. If it was Monday - and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days the week, because of television - then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Harry's eleventh birthday. Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun - last year, the Dursleys had given him a coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks, Siri never had her own money but she would always make him a card, she hated that she couldn't buy him a proper present like he should have. Still, you weren't eleven every day.

Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought.

"Found the perfect place!" he said. "Come on! Everyone out!"

It was very cold outside the car. Siri couldn't keep her self from shivering and stuck close for Harry for warmth. Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television in there.

"Storm forecast for tonight!" said Uncle Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"

A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-gray water below them.

"I've already got us some rations," said Uncle Vernon, "so all aboard!"

It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.

The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.

Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of chips each and four bananas. He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags just smoked and shriveled up.

"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully.

"Or we could burn you " muttered Siri causing Harry to have to stifle his laughter.

He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Harry privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer him up at all. Siri just wanted to be warm.

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few moldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Harry and Siri were left to find the softest bit of floor they could and to curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket using each other for warmth.

The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Harry couldn't sleep and neither could Siri. He shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbling with hunger as was Siri's . Dudley's snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of Dudley's watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry he'd be eleven in ten minutes' time. He lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering if the Dursleys would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now. Siri turned to face Harry, as she felt guilt churning in her stomach as she hadn't even be able to make Harry a card.

Five minutes to go. Harry heard something creak outside, Siri cast her gaze to where the sound originated from. They hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although they might be warmer if it did. Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that they would be able to steal one somehow.

Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?

One minute to go and he'd be eleven. Thirty seconds... twenty... ten... nine - maybe he'd wake Dudley up, just to annoy him - three... two... one...

BOOM.

The whole shack shivered and Harry sat bolt upright with Siri quickly following, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.


	4. Chapter 4

BOOM. They knocked again. Dudley jerked awake. Siri and Harry's hands grasped each other.

"Where's the cannon?" Dudley said stupidly.

There was a crash behind them and Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room. He was holding a rifle in his hands - now they knew what had been in the long, thin package he had brought with them.

"Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn you - I'm armed!"

There was a pause. Then -

SMASH!

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.

A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair. Despite his scary appearance Siri had a gut feeling that he wasn't, that he the complete opposite however she couldn't figure why.

The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look at them all.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey..."

He strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen with fear.

"Budge up, yeh great lump," said the stranger.

Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was crouching, terrified, behind Uncle Vernon.

"An' here's Harry!" said the giant " an' you must be Siri"

Harry looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile. Siri felt herself relax, her instincts had been correct.

"Las' time I saw you, you two were only babies," said the giant. "Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mom's eyes." He directed this statement at Harry before turning to Siri " An you, yeh look like the spittin' imagin of yer dad"

While uncle Vernon made a funny rasping noise, Siri was trying to picture an older male version of her. This was the first thing anyone had told her about her family.

"I demand that you leave at once, sir!" he said. "You are breaking and entering!"

"Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," said the giant; he reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of Uncle Vernon's hands, bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into a corner of the room. Harry squeezed Siri's hand at the causal display of the giants strength, while he prided himself in being brave he knew that his best friend was his greatest weakness as well as his greatest strength and he never wanted harm to fall upon her.

Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on. As Siri squeezed Harrys hand back, she found a smile appearing upon her face at seeing the Dursleys cowering in fear.

"Anyway – Harry ," said the giant, turning his back on the Dursleys, "a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here - I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. Harry opened it one handed with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Harry written on it in green icing. Siri felt herself grin, at least someone had given Harry a birthday present, he truly deserved one.

Harry looked up at the giant. He meant to say thank you, but the words got lost on the way to his mouth, and what he said instead was, "Who are you?" only to mumble an apology after Siri sharply nudged him for being rude, which Harry found ironic as Siri was allways rude as she barely bothered with manners.

The giant however just chuckled.

"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

He held out an enormous hand and shook Harry's whole arm before moving on to do the same to Siri.

"What about that tea then, eh?" he said, rubbing his hands together. "I'd not say no ter summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind."

His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in it and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn't see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and Harry felt the warmth wash over him as though he'd sunk into a hot bath. While Siri had an internal revelation, these flames were the same as the ones at Mrs FIgg… it had to be linked!

The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little. Uncle Vernon said sharply, "Don't touch anything he gives you, Dudley."

The giant chuckled darkly.

"Yer great puddin' of a son don' need fattenin' anymore, Dursley, don' worry."

He passed the sausages to Harry and Siri, who were so hungry they had never tasted anything so wonderful, but they still couldn't take his eyes off the giant. Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything, Harry confidently said, "I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are."

The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts - yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course.

"Er - no," said Harry.

"Hog-what?" asked Siri, her eyes burning brightly at the thought of new knowledge

Hagrid looked shocked.

"Sorry," Harry said quickly.

"Sorry ?" barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the shadows. "It's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?"

"All what?" asked Harry while Siri just sat forward, she desperately wanted to know about her family.

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered. "Now wait jus' one second!"

He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.

"Do you mean ter tell me," he growled at the Dursleys, "that this they - they! - knows nothin' abou' - about ANYTHING?"

Harry thought this was going a bit far. He had been to school, after all, and his marks weren't bad and Siri's were at least three times better than his.

"I know some things," he said. "I can, you know, do math and stuff."

But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, "About our world, I mean. Your world. My world. Yer parents' world."

"What world?" exclaimed Siri who was getting frustrated at being left in the dark.

Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.

"DURSLEY!" he boomed.

Uncle Vernon, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like "Mimblewimble." Hagrid stared wildly at them.

"But yeh must know about yer mom and dad," he said. "I mean, they're famous. You're famous. Both of yer parents"

"What? My - my mom and dad weren't famous, were they?" asked Siri

"Yeh don' know... yeh don' know... " Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Harry with a bewildered stare before casting a sympathetic gaze towards the dark haired girl.

"Yeh don' know what yeh are ?" he said finally.

Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice.

"Stop!" he commanded. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell them anything!"

A braver man than Vernon Dursley would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.

"You never told them? Never told them what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer them? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from both of them all these years?"

"Kept what from me?" said Harry eagerly.

" we deserve to know!" demanded Siri, angrily.

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in panic.

Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror.

"Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Harry - yer a wizard an Siri yer a witch"

There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard.

"I'm a what ?" gasped Harry.

" that's insulting!" exclaimed Siri, outraged that the man would caller her such an ugly name.

"A wizard and witch, o' course," said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower as he ignored Siris outraged response, "an' thumpin' good 'uns, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like the both yours, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter."

Harry stretched out his hand at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Mr. H. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. He pulled out the letter and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

Siri too tenderly took her letter, she took a deep breath before breaking the red seal, this letter would change her life, she knew it would.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss. Black,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

Questions exploded inside Harry's and Siri's head like fireworks and they couldn't decide which to ask first. After a few minutes, Harry stammered, "What does it mean, they await my owl?" Siri face palmed… they had just found out life changing information and he's questioning about an owl?

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl - a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl - a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that Harry could read upside down while Siri tried tilting her head to read it causing Harry to laugh:

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

Given Harry and Siri their letter.

Taking them to buy his things tomorrow.

Weather's horrible. Hope you're well.

Hagrid

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone.

Harry realized his mouth was open and Siri lifted her hand and closed his mouth.

"Where was I?" said Hagrid, but at that moment, Uncle Vernon, still ashen-faced but looking very angry, moved into the firelight.

"He's not going and neither is she!," he said.

Hagrid grunted.

"I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop them," he said.

"A what?" said Siri, interested.

"A Muggle," said Hagrid, "it's what we call nonmagic folk like them. An' it's your bad luck you grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on."

"We swore when we took them in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of them! Wizard indeed!"

"how could you!" raged Siri, she felt her body flush with anger. How dare they try and take away the gist she had from her parents.

"You knew ?" said Harry. "You knew I'm a - a wizard?"

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that - that school - and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was - a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.

"Then she met that Potter and Siri's parents at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as - as - abnormal - and then, if you please, they all went and got themselves blown up and we got landed with you two!"

Harry had gone very white. As soon as he found his voice he said, "Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!" The room began to tremble slightly as both Harry and Siri's anger was being unleashed.

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter an' Cassie Black? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter and Siri Black not knowin' their own story when every kid in our world knows their name!"

"But why? What happened?" Harry and Siri asked urgently.

The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He looked suddenly anxious.

"I never expected this," he said, in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh - but someone's gotta - yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."

He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys while Siri's glare was burning holes into them

"Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh - mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it..."

He sat down, stared into the fire for a few seconds, and then said, "It begins, I suppose, with - with a person called - but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows-"

"Who?"

"Well - I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?" asked Siri, she couldn't figure out why people wouldn't say this persons name.

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Siri , people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went... bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was..."

Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.

"Could you write it down?" Harry suggested, wanting Hagrid to get on with the story.

"Nah - can't spell it. All right - Voldemort." Hagrid shuddered. "Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this - this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too - some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days… Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches... terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him - an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway.

"Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before... probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side.

"Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em... maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago while Siri and Cassie were visiting. You both was just a year old. He came ter yer house an' - an'-"

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad - knew Harry's mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find – anyway, unless yer counted Cassie."

"You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then - an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing - he tried to kill you both , too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer foreheads? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh - took care of yer mum an' dad an Cassie an' yer house, even - but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Siri an Harry. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you two, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age - the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts - an' you both was only a baby, an' you lived."

Something very painful was going on in Harry's mind. As Hagrid's story came to a close, he saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than he had ever remembered it before - and he remembered something else, for the first time in his life: a high, cold, cruel laugh. He squeezed Siri's hand as she too remembered a monstrous laugh and I high pitched scream, which was clearly from a women.

Hagrid was watching them sadly.

"Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot..."

"Load of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon. Harry and Siri jumped; they had almost forgotten that the Dursleys were there. Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at Hagrid and his fists were clenched.

"Now, you listen here, boy; girl," he snarled, "I accept there's something strange about you two, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured - and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdoes, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion - asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types - just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end-"

"SHUT UP!" shouted Siri, her eyes burning in anger…. how dare they! How dare they say her mother was better off dead! She was going to make them pay!

But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said, "I'm warning you, Dursley - I'm warning you - one more word..."

In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, Uncle Vernon's courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

"That's better," said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor.

Harry, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them.

"But what happened to Vol-, sorry - I mean, You-Know-Who?"

"Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see... he was gettin' more an' more powerful - why'd he go?

"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don' reckon they could've done if he was comin' back.

"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you finished him, Harry. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on - I dunno what it was, no one does - but somethin' about you stumped him, all right."

Hagrid looked at them with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Harry, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. A wizard? Him? How could he possibly be? He'd spent his life being clouted by Dudley, and bullied by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon; if he was really a wizard, why hadn't they been turned into warty toads every time they'd tried to lock him in his cupboard? If he'd once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come Dudley had always been able to kick him around like a football?

While Siri, felt herself become whole, she could feel it. This was what she was born to be, it was like the ache in her chest finally stopped. She had her missing piece, her magic, she finally had a place where she belonged and where she could be herself.

"Hagrid," Harry said quietly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard."

To his surprise, Hagrid chuckled.

"Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"

Harry looked into the fire. Now he came to think about it... every odd thing that had ever made his aunt and uncle furious with him had happened when he, Harry, had been upset or angry... chased by Dudley's gang, he had somehow found himself out of their reach... dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut, he'd managed to make it grow back... and the very last time Dudley had hit him, hadn't he got his revenge, without even realizing he was doing it? Hadn't him and Siri set a boa constrictor on him?

Harry looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at him.

"See?" said Hagrid. "Harry Potter, not a wizard - you wait, you'll be right famous at too Siri"

But Uncle Vernon wasn't going to give in without a fight.

"Haven't I told you they are not going?" he hissed. "He's going to Stonewall High, so is she and they will be grateful for it. I've read those letters and theu needs all sorts of rubbish - spell books and wands and-"

"If they wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop them," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily an' James Potter's son an' Cassies blacks daughter goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. There name's been down ever since they was born. The both of them are off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and they won't know himself. They will be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an' they be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had Albus Dumbled-"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH THEM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, "NEVER - " he thundered, " - INSULT - ALBUS - DUMBLEDORE - IN - FRONT - OF - ME!"

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley - there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers, Siri let her laughter explode from her as she clutched onto Harry, this was by far the funniest thing she had ever seen.

Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do."

He cast a sideways look at Harry and Siri under his bushy eyebrows.

"Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm - er - not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff - one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job."

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Harry while Siri began to recover.

"Oh, well - I was at Hogwarts meself but I - er - got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Why were you expelled?" Siri pressed.

"It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that."

He took off his thick black coat and threw it to Harry and Siri.

"You can kip under that," he said. "Don' mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' doormice in one o' the pockets."

They both snuggled under the coat, not realising they were still clutching hands as they peacefully slumbered dreaming of magic.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry woke early the next morning, his arm wrapped around a still sleeping Siri. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight.

"It was a dream, he told himself firmly. "I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I'll be at home in my cupboard."

There was suddenly a loud tapping noise.

Siri began to stir from her slumber.

And there's Aunt Petunia knocking on the door, Harry thought, his heart sinking. But he still didn't open his eyes. It had been such a good dream.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"All right," Harry mumbled, "I'm getting up."

He sat up and Hagrid's heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.

Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He shook Siri awake.

"what" grumbled Siri as she slowly sat up, her hands rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.

"It wasn't a dream!" harry exclaimed, a smile lighting up his face. Siri just smiled back, he could be so dense sometimes. Of course, it wasn't a dream, it all made perfect sense.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Harry practically bounced over to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn't wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid's coat.

"Don't do that."

Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way only he managed to hit Siri in the head as the owl just snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat.

"owww" exclaimed Siri, "first you wake me up from my much-needed sleep and then you hit me. What is this? abuse Siri day? "

"shut up" smirked Harry, "you know that didn't hurt, stop being a baby"

"yeah well, it was still mean "pouted Siri as she combed her fingers through her dark locks.

The bird meanwhile had continued to bury its self into the coat. "Hagrid!" said Harry loudly. "There's an owl-"

"Pay him," Hagrid grunted into the sofa.

"What?" asked Siri puzzled… how did you pay an owl?

"He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Look in the pockets."

Hagrid's coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets - bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, teabags... finally, Harry and Siri pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins.

"Give him five Knuts," said Hagrid sleepily.

"Knuts?"

"The little bronze ones."

Harry counted out five little bronze coins, and the owl held out his leg so Harry could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then he flew off through the open window. Siri was however was giggling behind her hand, she spoke softly into Harrys ear "you gave him your nuts harry "before dissolving into complete laugher at the red blush that formed on his face. "shut up!" he whispered back, trying to hide his embarrassment

Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up, and stretched.

"Best be off, Siri an Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."

Harry was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them while trying to get over his embarrassment. He had just thought of something that made him feel as though the happy balloon inside him had a puncture.

"Um - Hagrid?"

"Mm?" said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots.

"I haven't got any money - and you heard Uncle Vernon last night... he won't pay for us to go and learn magic."

Siri felt her heart sink, she just had to go to this school. She couldn't just forget she was a witch, it was part of her and she wasn't going to let some man who deemed her a freak to stop her from going. " I won't let him stop us!" she muttered darkly. Hagrid paused, and for a second he felt fear fill his bones. In that moment, her face had become so much like her aunt, so much that it had made his blood freeze. He shook himself out of his memories, he was being stupid, she was her own person.

"Don't worry about that," said Hagrid, standing up and scratching his head getting the image of Bellatrix out of his head. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"

"But if their house was destroyed-" started Harry, as he wondered what the man was going on about, his parents couldn't of had money, she was always told they didnt.

"They didn' keep their gold in the house, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank. Have a sausage, they're not bad cold - an' I wouldn' say no teh a bit o' yer birthday cake, neither."

"Wizards have banks ?" asked Siri, eager to learn more about the world where she belonged.

"Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins."

Harry dropped the bit of sausage he was holding.

"Goblins ?"

Siri felt excitement claim her at Hagrid's statement, there were magical creatures. Proper magical creatures. It truly was a different world and she couldn't wait to enter it.

"Yeah - so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Harry, Siri. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe - 'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." Hagrid drew himself up proudly. "He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you - gettin' things from Gringotts - knows he can trust me, see."

"Got everythin'? Come on, then."

Harry and Siri followed Hagrid out onto the rock. The sky was quite clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight. The boat Uncle Vernon had hired was still there, with a lot of water in the bottom after the storm.

"How did you get here?" Harry asked, looking around for another boat.

"Flew," said Hagrid.

"Flew ?" asked Siri, she had always admired birds, sometimes she wished her and Harry could just fly away from their life at the Dursley's and now they could!

"Yeah - but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh."

They settled down in the boat, Harry still staring at Hagrid, trying to imagine him flying. Siri was gazing up at the sky, she caught Harrys eye and they shared a grin.

"Seems a shame ter row, though," said Hagrid, giving Harry and Siri another of his sideways looks. "If I was ter - er - speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"

"Of course not," said Harry, eager to see more magic, as Siri nodded her head in agreement . Hagrid pulled out the pink umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and they sped off toward land.

"Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" Harry asked.

"Spells - enchantments," said Hagrid, unfolding his newspaper as he spoke. "They say there's dragons guardin' the high security vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way - Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat."

Harry sat and thought about this while Hagrid read his newspaper, the Daily Prophet. Harry had learned from Uncle Vernon that people liked to be left alone while they did this, but it was very difficult, he'd never had so many questions in his life.

"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered, turning the page.

"There's a Ministry of Magic?" Siri asked, just tuning back into the converstaion as he had been gazing at the sea around her.

"'Course," said Hagrid. "They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."

"But what does a Ministry of Magic do ?" inquired Harry, as both he and Siri leant slightly forward

"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country."

"Why?"

"Why? Blimey, Harry, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone."

So there's a clear division between muggles and magical people thought Siri, while she hated the Dursley's she could clearly see that stuff that Muggles had made could be useful and would be amazing if they worked together but clearly wizards didn't think it was.

At this moment the boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Hagrid folded up his newspaper, and they clambered up the stone steps onto the street.


	6. Chapter 6

Passers-by stared a lot at Hagrid as they walked through the little town to the station. Harry couldn't blame them. Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as anyone else, he kept pointing at perfectly ordinary things like parking meters and saying loudly, "See that, yer to'? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?" Siri found herself smiling at Hagrid's fascination of the muggle world.

"Hagrid," said Harry, panting a bit as he ran to keep up while Siri just skipped in time , "did you say there are dragons at Gringotts?"

"Well, so they say," said Hagrid. "Crikey, I'd like a dragon."

" Their real!" exclaimed Siri, her eyes lighting up in excitement, she turned to grin at Harry, only to find him staring at Hagrid, his mouth open in shock.

"You'd like one?" he asked.

"Wanted one ever since I was a kid - here we go."

The sound of the sharp whistles from the trains smothered the air and Siri found herself smiling in excitement, her and HH Harry had never been on a train before. Harry grasped her hand, "I can't believe this is real ." he whispered, Siri squeezed his hand.

" I know, it seems crazy but it makes so much sense"

People stared more than ever on the train. Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow circus tent while Siri and Harry sat gazing out the window as the houses flew by.

"Still got yer letter, Harry and Siri?" he asked as he counted stitches.

Harry took the parchment envelope out of his pocket, Siri did the same before putting it away and deciding to just look at Harrys.

"Good," said Hagrid. "There's a list there of everything yeh need."

Harry unfolded a second piece of paper he hadn't noticed the night before, and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL o f WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set of glass or crystal phials

1 telescope set

1 brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"Can we buy all this in London?" Harry wondered aloud, while Siri had decided she was going to buy more than the recommended books, knowledge is power.

"If yeh know where to go," said Hagrid.

They had never been to London before. Although Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, he was obviously not used to getting there in an ordinary way. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complained loudly that the seats were too small and the trains too slow.

"I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic," he said as they climbed a broken-down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with shops.

Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily; all Harry and Siri had to do was keep close behind him. They passed book shops and music stores, hamburger restaurants and cinemas, but nowhere that looked as if it could sell you a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street full of ordinary people. Could there really be piles of wizard gold buried miles beneath them? Were there really shops that sold spell books and broomsticks? Might this not all be some huge joke that the Dursleys had cooked up? If Harry hadn't known that the Dursleys had no sense of humor, he might have thought so; yet somehow, even though everything Hagrid had told him so far was unbelievable, Harry couldn't help trusting him. However, he had whispered his theory to Siri who promptly hit him on the head and told him that it made complete sense so he shouldn't doubt it.

"This is it," said Hagrid, coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, they wouldn't have noticed it was there. The people hurrying by didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, Harry had the most peculiar feeling that only they could see it. Before he could mention this, Hagrid had steered him inside. Siri grimaced at the dirt laying on the door, it left her hands dusty and feeling grimy… this place could really do with a clean nd a bloody good one!

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his great hand on Harry and Siri shoulder and making their knees buckle.

"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at them, "is this - can this be - ?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Harry Potter and Siri black... what an honor."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Harry and seized his hand, tears in his eyes before grasping Siri's and doing the same.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back Miss Black."

Harry didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at him. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. Hagrid was beaming. Siri just waved cheerfully at everyone, however this proved to just encourage everyone to come closer.

Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, they found themselves shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"So proud, Miss. Black, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand - I'm all of a flutter."

"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

"I've seen you before!" said Harry, as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement. "You bowed to me once in a shop."

"He remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? He remembers me!" Harry shook hands again and again - Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.

A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching. Siri flinched back, something felt wrong… he felt wrong, she went to pull Harry away however Hagrid stopped her.

"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. " Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"P-P-Potter, B-B-Black" stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Harry's hand and then Siri's much to her disgust, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" asked Siri, who was trying to keep her magic under control, it really didn't like the man in front of her.

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh,?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.

But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep them to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble.

"Must get on - lots ter buy. Come on."

Doris Crockford shook Siri's hand one last time, and Hagrid led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.

Hagrid grinned at them.

"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh - mind you, he's usually tremblin'."

"Is he always that nervous?" asked Siri, something was wrong with that man and she wanted to find out what.

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience... They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag - never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject - now, where's me umbrella?"

 **AN :**

 **I know this is a bit short but I'm debating on if I should stay with cannon, please review and tell me what you think. I really want to know how you guys feel about this.**

 **thankyou**


	7. Chapter 7

Harry and Siri shared another look between each other, they both agreed silently that having a teacher who feared his subject was pointless… there was no way he would be able to teach effectively. Harry felt disappointment creep up on him, if Hogwarts couldn't even hire proper teachers would it really be that amazing? "we will just teach ourselves, "muttered Siri as she squeezed Harry's hand. Siri had decided at once that they would teach themselves more than what was required. Harry turned to Siri a smile upon his face, he could always rely on Siri.

Meanwhile Hagrid had produce him umbrella from one of his never-ending pockets as he gently tapped the bricks on the wall

"Three up... two across... " he muttered as he went. "Right, stand back, yer two'."

The brick he had touched quivered - it wriggled - in the middle, a small hole appeared - it grew wider and wider - a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."

He grinned at their amazement, the disappointment from moments ago, was put to the back of their mind. They stepped through the archway. Harry looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantly back into solid wall. Siri had noticed that it had sealed too and found herself in wonder that she had finally come back to the world which should have been hers and Harry's.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self-Stirring - Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.

"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first."

Harry wished he had about eight more eyes. He turned his head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad..." Siri too was in awe of the Alley and found a massive grim smoother her face.

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium - Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Harry heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand - fastest ever - " There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Harry had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon... Siri however found her eyes drawn to the Flourish and Blotts, a book shop! All the knowledge that lay within the store, she found herself almost giddy with excitement

"Gringotts," said Hagrid.

They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was -

"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was about a head shorter than Siri. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, Harry noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Harry and Siri bowed in reply, the goblin stared at them as they entered the bank, never before had humans shown such respect. They soon found that they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

"Like I said, Yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it," said Hagrid.

"sounds like a challenge " muttered Harry, Siri laughed in reply, it did in deed sound like a challenge.

A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall, once again Siri and Harry copied them earning more shocked looks. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. They made for the counter.

"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's vault and Mrs. Siri Black's vault."

"You have their key, sir?"

"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. Harry watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals.

"Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up two tiny golden keys.

The goblin looked at them closely.

"That seems to be in order."

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

Siri's interest peaked, why would Dumbledore send Hagrid to get something important when her was supposed to be helping them.

The goblin read the letter carefully.

"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, they followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked as Siri listened in.

"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."

Harry and Siri shared a look, if something was that important why make Hagrid get it when he was with them?

Griphook held the door open for them. Harry, who had expected more marble, was surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in - Hagrid with some difficulty - and were off.

At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Harry tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering. Siri found herself whopping in joy, this was amazing!

Harry's and Siri's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but they kept them wide open. Once, he thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, Siri conformed it by exclaiming " did you see that" as they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

"I never know," Harry called to Hagrid over the noise of the cart, "what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"

"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," said Hagrid. "An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick." Siri found laughter bubbling over her, Hagrid really could be dense.

He did look very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.

"All yours," smiled Hagrid.

All Harry's - it was incredible. The Dursleys couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from him faster than blinking. How often had they complained how much Harry cost them to keep? And all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to him, buried deep under London. "Harry your rich!" exclaimed Siri, smiling at Harry's joy.

Hagrid helped Harry pile some of it into a bag.

"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh." He turned to Griphook. "Black vault please and could we go slower "

"One speed only," said Griphook.

They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine, and Harry leaned over the side to try to see what was down at the dark bottom, but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck.

They clambered off the chart and stood in front of a massive door.

"lamp please" asked the Goblin, Harry handed it to him as they approached the vault. As the Goblin began to open the vault he pulled Harry and Siri aside. " now yer two', the blacks' did have some dangerous artifacts so becareful' what yer touch" Siri went to ask what he meant by that but was distracted by the treasure that lay within the vault. " Oh My God" exclaimed Siri. There was piles and l of golden gallons going from the floor to the ceiling, jewels lay scattered among the floor, there was a massive book case that took up the wall at the back of the vault. Hagrid had decided to stay out of the vault so harry and Siri set out to gather what they needed. Siri sneakily snuck most of the books into the expanded pouch as some of them seem nasty and perhaps dark. But this was her family, just as they were leaving she spied a folded up tapestry, there was some writing in Latin which she couldn't translate but some of it was in English, what caught her eye was the heading " the most ancient and noble house of black" this was here family, she cast her eyes down the tree and found her own name stitched on in golden thread. Deciding that this was important she folded it back up and placed it into the expanded pouch which Harry was holding. Harry gave her a questioning glance, " we need some answers." she muttered. He nodded in agreement, things were not adding up.

They then climbed back into the cart and speed towards the mystery vault, Harry and Siri both too deep in thought to care about the ride. They then climbed out and stood in front of the vault which was strangely important.

"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.

"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked.

"About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin. Siri found herself grinning, she would bet all the gold in her vault that the Goblins knew exactly when someone became stuck in a vault.

Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, Harry and Siri were sure, and they leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least much like what was in Siris vault - but at first they thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor, he pointed it out silently to Siri. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask.

"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid. They hopped back into the cart and then sped back main room in Gringotts. Hagrid began to lead them out but Siri interrupted, " Hagrid, me and Harry want to find out more about are banks, do you think we could speak to a Goblin?" Hagrid looked uneasy, his face was still green from the cart ride, both Siri and Harry put on their bust puppy dog eyes. "alright, I need a drink meet yer both later, don't be wondering off now'" and with that Hagrid left.

Harry smiled at Siri, finally they could find out what was actually going on. Hand in hand hey strolled back to the counter. " can we speak to our account mangers please?" asked Harry. The goblin leered down at them, " and who are you two?" he asked in return.

"Harry potter and Siri Black" answered Harry, the Goblins face changed suddenly, he got off his chair and stood beside them " this way, follow me please" as he lead them behind the counter and into a separate room. Time for answers


	8. Chapter 8

They entered the room to the side, and found an older Goblin sat behind a big ornate desk, his face was lined with wrinkles and grey whiskers, he held an eagle quill in his clawed hand. His head had snapped up at the door opening, a vicious smirk appeared upon his face, sharp teeth shone yellow in the candle lit room. The Goblin which had lead them into the room, nervously spoke up as the older Goblin turned to glare at him. "Siri Black and Harry Potter, wish to talk about their accounts…. If that's all right Mr BloodClaw?" BloodClaw looked up and beckoned them towards the desk. Harry and Siri walked confidently to the chairs opposite the older goblin and sat down, they heard the distinct shutting of the door as the younger dismissed goblin left. The quill made a gentle tap as it was placed on the table, the goblin then folded his hands in front of him and lent back, gazing upon them. "how may I help you ?" he asked, his voice deep seem to command attention and respect and Harry and Siri found themselves sitting a little straighter.

"We wanted to learn more about our family and accounts?" spoke up Harry after sharing a quick glance with Siri. The Goblin grinned at them maliciously, " you will need to prove your identity." He turned to the draws behind him and pulled out two pieces of Parchment and an engraved dagger, " you will need to prick your finger and let the blood drop onto the paper." He placed them on the desk and waited for either one of them to move. Siri who decided to be brave stood and gently sliced her finger, hissing in pain as the blood dripped onto the parchment. Writing began to appear on the parchment and the Goblin took it off her. His grin widened and he began to read out what the parchment had said:

Name : Siri Abbie Black

Mother : Abby Marie Black nee Wonder ( deceased)

Father: Sirius Orion Black (Azkaban)

Abilities

Magical core: 1020 ( 90% blocked)

Black family magic: 100% blocked

Natural animagus: Dire wolf (100% blocked)

Natural occlumens: (100% blocked)

Soul bond: Hadrian James Potter ( blocked)

Assets:

Grimmold place: under fidus charm

Black manor ; unplottable

Abbies cottage

Padfoots den

Shares:

20% The prophet

20% Flourish and blots

60% Borgin and Burkes

30% Cobb and Webbs

10% Mr Mulpepper's apothecary

70% The white Wyvern

Vaults:

Black main family vault: 8 Million Gallons, 4 million sickles and 30 thousand knuts.

Also contains books, artefacts, memories, jewels and wands.

Black secondary vault: 3 million Gallons, 2 millon sickles and 10 housands knuts

Also contains books, family tapestry and jewels.

Wonder family vault: 12 million Gallons, 0 sickles and 0 Knuts

Also contains books, jewels, a wedding dress and artefacts

Heir to the ancient and noble house of Black

Heir to the ancient and noble house of Wonder

Magical Heir to the ancient and noble house of Emerys ( through Wonder family )

The goblin folded up the parchment and Siri found herself gapping. How could she have this much money, it didn't seem right ? The soul bond with Harry made complete sense, and didn't bother her at all, in fact it made her happy, she knew that she wanted no one apart from him. He was her life, why would the future be any different? Harry found himself both in shock and very happy, Siri had so much money and they were soul mates, destined to be together no matter what. It made him happy that they were also supposed to be this close. He gripped Siri's hand and they shared a smile. Things were going to be good he would make sure of it.

"what does it mean when it says blocked and my father is in prison, what for ?! " Siri asked, sounding a little hysterical, Harry squeezed her hand, he knew that her family meant the world to her and he knew that whatever the Goblins said would upset her. The old Goblin cleared his throat, " well the record states that Sirius Black, your father, was responsible for the death of 15 people, both muggle and Wizards, however for the full details you will have to speak to a ministry official. " Sir felt her heart sink, her father was a murder, he was a killer and she was related to him.

Harry saw the anger in Siri's eyes as she released that her own flesh and blood had chosen killing over her and that her dreams of a Family had come crashing down. He pulled her into a hug as she allowed a few tears to fall as she saw her dreams vanish before her eyes. She would strive to never be like him, her family, her Harry would always come first. The Goblin sensing that he should continue started to explain what blocked meant, " when it says Blocked it means that a wizard has stopped you from getting these abilities, and by the look of the magical signature I would say that Albus Dumbledore was the one to block them" Harry and Siri both felt anger build up inside them, how dare this headmaster muddle in her life. "is there any way to get this unblocked" Siri asked once she was calm enough to talk, the Goblin grinned at her. "of course, but I dare say that mister Potter will have some too so we shall do them together, now however we must give you your head of house rings, these rings will signify that you are a Lady and make you an adult in the eyes of the law." Siri felt relief flood through her at the thought of getting her block removed but anger quickly filled her once she released that Harry too would have some. Harry also felt anger at the fact some old man had seen fit to meddle in both their lives.

The torches began to flicker as the two children both released accidental magic and the Goblin couldn't help but grin, Albus Dumbledore was going to be in for a massive shock. He then produced three rings and placed them onto the table, the Torches began to flow in their dance with magic as both children calmed down enough, " what are those ? " Siri asked as she looked at the rings on the table, one was a deep green, with an inscription on the side, another was a purple jewel which seem to glow and the last one was a deep ocean blue, polished stone that when the torches shined on it cast a rainbow of blues to appear.

"These are the rings, you simply have to put them on your finger and they will mould to you." He replied, " the green one is for the house of Black, the purple one is for the house of wonder and the blue is for magical heir of Emerys." He then leaned back in his chair and watched at the girl put each ring on her finger gasping when her magic shrunk the ring to fit, " you are now an adult in the eyes of the law and you are Lady wonder-Black and the magical heir house of Emerys. Congratulations. "

Siri felt the rings magic rush over and she felt herself relaxing, she had a connection her family, to her heritage, she glanced at Harry to see him smiling at her. Harry could help but smile at Siri she looked so happy and he couldn't wait to find out what connections he had to his family. " I uess it's my turn now?" asked Harry, and Bloodclaw grinned in response.

AN: a bit shorted but all my own words this time J please review and what house do you think they should be in? and who should they be friends with. Thankyou xxxaG


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